


Wednesday Morning, 3AM

by orphan_account



Series: Collection of short fics [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fond Arthur watches Merlin sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wednesday Morning, 3AM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beccadearie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccadearie/gifts).



> Written for Becca's birthday. Inspired by 'Wednesday Morning, 3AM' by Simon & Garfunkel.

Arthur is awake. He’s lying on his stomach, naked, in the crisp, warm comfort of his bed. There are only two sounds: the soft rhythm of Arthur’s breathing and the low whistle of Merlin’s snores. Arthur grins against his pillow, unable to hold in the tickle of affection he feels every time Merlin exhales and a wobbling ‘hrrrrmm’ twists up into the dark air. Merlin has always snored like that (what Arthur likes to call a “girl snore”), and Arthur wouldn’t change it for the world.

The clock on Merlin’s bedside table reads 3:08AM. Arthur knows that he has to get up in three hours and drive to Manchester for a full day of business meetings. He’ll be leaving before Merlin is properly awake and staying overnight. The thought of lying in a hotel bed 24 hours from now, without the hot brush of Merlin’s skin against his hips beneath the duvet or the whistle of that stupid little snore, makes the muscles in Arthur’s shoulders tense.

Merlin smells like warm milk and honey, his smiles are small and private, and he gasps and twists his fingers through the air when Arthur kisses the back of his neck. How is Arthur going to survive a night without feeling the wet press of Merlin’s lips against his own? He doesn’t want to sit down for an evening meal that Merlin hasn’t cooked, or hang up his coat without having to rescue Merlin’s from the floor as well. The feeling of loss - of  _wrongness_  -  sends a painful spike of sadness through Arthur and, before he can help it, he’s shifting towards Merlin and wrapping and arm around his waist.

Merlin murmurs, rising just below the surface of waking, and then sinks back down into silence and sleep. Arthur draws a deep breath and runs his nose in light circles across Merlin’s shoulder blade, enjoying the warmth of their closeness. He closes his eyes and lets his mind wander back to the hours they had spent in bed before collapsing into sleep - Merlin on his back, gasping and moaning as Arthur licked at the sweat on his neck, then pushed into him and pulled out again in movements that were gentle to the point of languidness. Arthur remembers the sound of Merlin’s moans; short and needy, seeming to jump up from the depths of his stomach in a haze of pleasure.

The sensation of Merlin’s thumbs rubbing along Arthur’s ribs with each thrust tingles through Arthur’s skin again, and he shifts further forwards, tightening his arm around Merlin’s waist and linking their hands in the white tangle of the duvet. Arthur slides his fingers between Merlin’s and presses a light kiss to Merlin’s bicep. He hears the end of Merlin’s whistled snore curl into a contented smile, and then Arthur kisses Merlin again, wondering what dreams are ambling through the scruffy black mop on the pillow beside him.

It’s only a few hours until morning, but Arthur feels sure that if he can spend every second of that time with Merlin pressed against his chest, then he might be able to leave his heart behind for a night - in Merlin’s care, of course.


End file.
